The Kitchen Table Talks

My grandmother Margaret w/her children, Richard, Gloria Jean and Shirley.

Growing up, I remember my mother's kitchen. In my house, like many other families that I know. The kitchen was the heart of the home. A place where mom made great meals and taught her daughters how to cook. A place where we prayed together, laughed and cried together. It was a warm special place. When my grandmother came to visit, which was very often. She and mom would sit at the kitchen table and talk for hours, which seemed like an eternity to my sisters and I. They always drank tea..Grandma, always liked black tea with lemon, and absolutely no sugar! As the years went by, It was my sister and I who fixed the tea for the both of them. Funny how I remember those details after all these years.

Grandma would talk about her family... Mama and Papa, as she called them. Her childhood, her ancestors, my mother's father and his family, the Bannarn's. It was always about family history, working hard and being proud of who you are. I'm sure they talked about other things, however this is the part of the conversation that I absorbed, for some reason. Listening to them tell theses stories about the ancestors..they were like characters in a book to me.They stood out among all else.When I think back, she was the true historian. She always thought it was important and wanted us to know all about our family. This burning desire to know who and where we come from, the sacrifices they made and the struggles they endured lives in so many of us in my family.

I never knew my grandfather, nor his parents..but I somehow feel that I did..for they live on and are given life through the stories of my grandmother, passed on to my mother, passed on to me.




Denise

© 2013 Denise Muhammad